Honour Patriotism Valor
by Sombodee
Summary: The Trooper storyline was written fantastically because the writers clearly had in-depth knowledge on how the military works. I should know because I am in the military myself. My story will start off with HOW the Trooper got into Havoc Squad. What he went through and how he gained the coveted posting. The training is what soldiers go through today. Enjoy, and write reviews please


**Honour. Patriotism. Valor**

**A Trooper's Origins**

**Author's Note**

The Trooper storyline was written fantastically because the writers clearly had in-depth knowledge on how the military works. I should know because I am in the military myself. My story will start off with HOW the Trooper got into Havoc Squad. What he went through and how he gained the coveted posting. Whatever you read will have no confidential information whatsoever, the information of training that my Trooper goes through is knowledge which one can access easily. Yet, me – who has experienced the training of converting to Special Forces – who writes what my Trooper goes through, will be entirely accurate. The emotions, the feelings and the difficulty that he goes through, will be a voice of what I went through. I am setting it up in the Star Wars situation because of my love for it, because I think it is a very appropriate backdrop and because it is a servitude to those who suffer to get into Special Forces. I hope you enjoy the story, and please do write reviews.

I am a Sergeant in a Special Forces unit of a country which I will not name. I am also a Ranger and have been on many deployment and I have to say, playing the Trooper was incredibly realistic. The decisions a Trooper has to make is one that many military men and women have to make, the agonizing choice of what is considered good and what is considered bad. It explores Politics, as seen at the ending of Act 3, it shows unhappiness and betrayal, common things you'll see in the Army. To fuse my experience with my Trooper was not difficult because I see the Trooper's entire storyline as a mirror of my dealings. Except that the Trooper has a much more colourful story than mine of course… And not to mention how incredibly awesome the Trooper is, seriously, if I could do half the things the Trooper could do, I could bring World Peace.

But I digress, this story will not contain anything confidential or harmful to the military organization. If you see any discrepancies in my military knowledge that does not agree with yours, just know that all countries operate differently. I am not a writer but I thoroughly enjoy writing. This is all done in my part time and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Prologue**

"Sir, I must protest," The Combat Medic whined in her Imperial accent. "He needs help!"  
Rhayne shot her a stern look and the Medic cowered under his withering glare. Even though his Stormtrooper helmet shielded his eyes, she could still feel the penetrating glare from the Commander of Havoc Squad.  
"Elara," the Commander said in an irritated voice. "I told you to calm down."  
The Commander was strict to a certain extent, but he cared deeply for the soldiers under his squad. When it was time to play, he would have fun with then and play hard, yet when it was time to work, he expect full commitment from his squad and nothing less than 100%. What constituted as 'nothing less than 100%' was an ability to understand orders, something Elara was not doing now as this was the fourth time which Major Rhayne had to repeat himself.  
"But, Sir!" Elara cried. "He's going to get killed!"  
She was talking about the 2IC, the second in command. Lieutenant Aric Jorgan.  
"He'll be fine," Rhayne murmured soothingly, making up for being stern earlier. He cherished and loved her, yet he had to separate his personal life from his Military work. The two can never ever intersect and must be kept separate. It was like having an alter-ego, two completely different lives. Yet deep inside, he could never be angry at her the same way he treats his other men.  
"Sir, any longer and he will die!"  
She was talking about the plan for their current mission in Belsavis. An unholy, thought-to-be-extinct race has appeared out of nowhere, one that befuddled Rhayne for a short while, but only a short while, as it was Havoc Squad's speciality to adapt to the situation.  
Expect the unexpected, adapt quickly and execute quickly. Havoc Squad was notoriously known for battering anything that came their way. They didn't need to know who they were facing, because with their combined knowledge, skill and ruthlessness, they could defeat anyone and anything.  
This time was no different.  
Lieutenant Aric Jorgan was tasked with distracting the enemy so that Rhayne and Elara could flank them into a kill-zone position, instantly wiping them out. A plan which Rhayne was optimistic about. Elara, not so much. As a Combat Medic, she was trained to heal others, to save lives, and what she saw of her 2IC was unsettling her deeply. He was under heavy fire, and through the eyes of mortals, it looked like he would break.  
"He won't die, you know him," Rhayne said confidently.  
"We're fighting against a whole new species!" The panic in Elara's voice was evident, and it was starting to annoy the Major.  
"Have faith!" He said sharper than he intended to. "It's Aric. He'll be fine."  
Aric's assault cannon ripped all at which he aimed to shreds. No one was spared. Yet no matter how much rounds he fired, they just kept coming. And they fired at him as well. No matter how protected he was under cover, he was sustaining heavy damage. Yet, embodying the spirit of the Republic and Havoc Squad, he stood tall, firing his assault cannon.  
"I have to heal him!" Elara got into a healing position but Rhayne reacted instantly and held her down.  
"You will give ourselves away!"  
"He's dying!"  
"Elara," Rhayne's voice grew grave. "Stand down. This is an order."  
Elara immediately tensed up and with some hesitation, relaxed her stance. Elara was compassionate and cared a lot about her brother-in-arms, but she was above all a soldier. A soldier who strictly abides by the rules and regulations. No matter how much she wanted to help her 2IC, she couldn't. The Commander gave the order, and an order must be followed. No matter how much one disagrees with it, an order is an order. This was what she learnt, and this was how she was raised, to never disobey an order.  
Aric growled a ferocious battle cry as he slaughtered the incoming masses. He didn't fear death. He only feared disservice to the Republic. To his Commander. The Commander was obviously concerned about Aric, yet he trusted him. If there was one person who he trusted the most in the galaxy, it was Aric. He has been in countless of battles with him, he knows Aric, the most dependable soldier a Commander could ever ask for. This was not his day to die.  
"A little more, Lieutenant," Rhayne murmured softly to himself.  
More came and finally, one that stood out from the rest emerged. The leader.  
_Bingo.  
_"Finally," Elara breathed a sigh of relief.  
Elara wasn't the impatient one though. Rhayne was. Upon first glimpse of it, Rhayne – with a forceful leap – charged towards the leader with sonic speed, slamming the leader with his shoulder plates, knocking the leader over. With no wasted movement, he pointed his blaster rifle at those surrounding him and activated his Electronic Pulse System. With a flash of light, a huge wave of electricity enveloped the creatures, frying and shocking all of them to death.

The leader quickly got up, towering over the Commander. It was much taller than the human, it was a giant. It raised his spear high into the air, about to skewer the commander. Rhayne didn't move. When he slammed it to the ground, he attached a sticky grenade. And right on cue, the leader's arms exploded, it's arms flying off in different directions while it howled in pain. All the fragments and debris was of no concern to Rhayne. He was a Vanguard, a bastion of defense. His armour could withstand anything, and he was well adept at using his shield generator.

He pointed the rifle at the creature's heart and fired a signature move of his, a High Impact Bolt, a very powerful round that was condensed with electricity that when discharged, the kinetic energy would multiply the force of it making it capable of penetrating anything. Which was what the bolt did. As thick as the creature's hide was, the bolt eviscerated it's heart and the creature went limp as it collapsed.

As Aric was clearing out the rest, Rhayne was finding the orb which the creature stole. The orb that was paramount to the survival of Belsavis. And as was his normal routine after killing an important figure, he thought back to his days, to the days where he struggled trying to make it into Havoc Squad, to where he is now, to how fortunate he is to be a Major. He would always ask himself, has anything about him changed since he was a cadet? His leadership style, his fighting, did anything change?

The orb was found. Mission Accomplished.

**Chapter 1 – A Soldier in the Making**

"Why do you want to enlist?" the recruiting officer asked.  
Rhayne was just 18 years old back then. Tall, muscular with a shaved crew cut, he was a model soldier poster boy. With an incredible physique and eyes which spoke determination, the recruitment center was impressed with him. He seemed like a perfect soldier. Almost too perfect. As with customary checks, they had to ask the question to see where his motives truly lie. He could have been an Imperial Agent for all they knew.  
"I want to enlist because I want to bring a rapid resolution to this war. To bring justice to our people," Rhayne spoke with conviction and pride. "War is hell, I don't want lives wasted because of it."  
"Do you want to be a medic then?" he asked, noting on how Rhayne said he wanted to save lives.  
"No, Sir," Rhayne replied. "I want to be in Havoc Squad."  
Skepticism coloured the recruiting officer's face. Everyone has ideals on entering the best force in the galaxy. Havoc Squad. Yet, reality hits them when they enter the selection phase, as they painfully realize how Havoc Squad soldiers are a completely different breed of soldiers. Their selection phase was notoriously known as the most difficult thing in the galaxy to accomplish. A person would have had more success trying to be attuned to the Force and going through the Jedi Trials. It is necessary though, in order to create the most elite breed of soldiers, they have to be able to go through the hardest trials.

The recruitment officer sees it everytime, a well-bodied fit man tries to enlist, request to be part of Havoc Squad because he thinks he has the best shape in Coruscant. One week later, he just gets posted to a regular Infantry unit as he dropped out due to the intense nature of the selection programme. Would this enlistee be the same?  
"Everyone who enlists must go through a basic course first," the recruiting officer replied. "We will take your matter into consideration and put it as your priority choice. However, you have to perform well in your basic stage in order to be considered being posted to the selection phase of Havoc Squad."  
This was a newly implemented rule. Because of everyone who thought they could make it to Havoc Squad, the leader, Harron Tavus, decided that only the top 2% of each company in the whole basic stage cohort will be invited to the Havoc Squad selection phase. That was one criteria. The other was that the Soldier had to hold a Commander appointment and rank. The selection would only be by invitation only, no one else could just sign up for it. It gave him a headache to deal with so many egotistical idiots who think they can make it.  
"Fine by me," Rhayne replied. He would not be like the other weaklings, because unlike the others, he has an inextinguishable fighting spirit. A drive so passionate and deep, that nothing could ever derail him.

Rhayne was always an adventurous person. He may have been a city boy in Alderaan but he loved the outdoors. Ever since he was six years old, he would always scale the mountains near his home. He was incredibly proficient in the treks, and had an acute sense of hunting as well. He had no nobility origins, he was just a child of a servant of House Organa. He had the privilege to roam inside the fancy palace but he was just a servant's boy after all. He was made known repeatedly how his lineage was different and how he was a lower status. Something he despised. He was secretly angry at his father for not being of a higher status. His coping mechanism would be the outdoors, where he would find solace and let his mind wander free. It was during those treacherous treks up the mountains and dangerous hunts where he realized that his father was not to blame. He was by no means religious yet he was content that the Force gave him life into a lower class for a reason. He took pride knowing that he was much fitter than the other children. Much tougher than those arrogant nerds who he would bully from time to time. He didn't hate them, yet, at any opportunity he got to subconsciously vent a silent scream of hatred against the nobles, he would take it. His father used to worry sick when his son would come back when he would go on his little adventures. Yet as time passed, he grew accustomed to it. Like the rain, it comes and goes, but it will always return. Named after one of nature's fierce elements, he would always tell his son why he was named after rain. That it was both life-sustaining and life-threatening. It could come in various forms, be in a drizzle or a storm. To achieve such extremes in all aspects of life, Rhayne's dad thought his son could achieve just that.

When he was 8 years old, one of the Organa Royal Guards noticed how Rhayne could now effortlessly trek through the mountains and bring home quail and other small animals for food. He took a liking that the child was not like the others. He attempted to befriend him and teach him some combat stuff, one which Rhayne paid deep attention too. Children always look up to adults as role models. Rhayne was no different. When the Royal Guard offered tips on combat, he was ecstatic. A keen learner, he learnt everything from him. He learnt arm-to-arm combat, how to fire a blaster pistol and blaster rifle, how to strip, clean and assemble the weapons and some tactics of war. For the Royal Guard, he saw in Rhayne a son he never had. He felt the need to pass on his knowledge and he saw Rhayne as a protégé. He believed that he would be someone special. At 13, Rhayne made his intentions to join the Royal Guard selection phase.

Alas, it was not to be as all of a sudden, House Thul rose and ambushed the palace which Rhayne's masters resided. Rhayne was out hunting in the forest, loving the feel of shooting his blaster rifle and had just shot a Mountain Lion. Only when he went back did he saw the Palace in flames, and the banner of House Thul riding the wind. Rage overwhelmed him, yet at the same time confusion. Was there any survivors? Was there anyone left alive? What about his father? What about his instructor? He tightened his grip on his rifle, about to charge in.

But he ran the other way. He wanted to kill them, he wanted to take revenge. But he hadn't matured yet. He was still only 13, he was still a child. And like every other child, he recognized fear. His heart wanted to fight, but his brain thought differently and his legs carried him somewhere else. Before he realized it, he was far away from the burning palace that was one his home. He knelt down on the snow, and wept. He was upset at himself, at his incompetence, and his weakness, at his fear, but most of all, how helpless he was. He could have been there, he could have fought with the Royal Guards! Yet he was spared. Maybe the Force willed him to survive.

He swore he would come back and take revenge on House Thul when he was ready.

He trekked until he found another residence of House Organa, and he told them the situation which they were already aware of. They were sympathetic to his plight and readily accepted him as a Royal Guard where he further trained to be a warrior. When he was 16, he had a rock hard body, a thick skin that was hard to scratch. Whether it was genetics or pure, hard training, he was blessed to have an incredible body. It was a body that could take anything. At 16, he was already one of the strongest Guards there. He could wear any armour, no matter how heavy it was. Armour that was heavy for most guards would be worn effortlessly by Rhayne. He could do a dance in it and not feel tired. He could run at the same pace as the other guards with the heaviest armour forged by Organa. It was an undisputed fact that he was the strongest.

He learnt many things while he was there. He learnt more about the galaxy and the different planets, he learnt knowledge of different species apart from Humans, he learnt social skills such as how to drink, party and how to please a woman. Most importantly, he learnt about the Republic. He was enamored with the Republic lessons, he loved the ideals and what they stood for. He learnt as much history as he could about them, from the Jedi organization to the forming of The Republic. He also learnt of the Imperial Empire. A battle which he learnt was during the Invasion of Aldeeran, where Imperial forces led by the Sith Lord, Darth Malgus, invaded Aldeeran but were resisted by the combine might of Jedi Master, Satele Shan and legendary troops, Havoc Squad. He loved the heroic tale and silently wished that he could be part of the elite force. His chance would soon come.

When he was 17, he had already participated in many live combat with House Thul forces so he was combat-trained. He figured he would have stayed his whole life on Aldeeran battling House Thul. His priorities changed when he heard the news that shook the galaxy.

The Sacking of Coruscant.

It set in motion a change of events with deadly consequences. The Empire allied with House Thul and were a lethal force of domination across Aldeeran. Many planets fell to the Empire. Two other Houses, Ulgo and Rist suddenly joined in the fray and before he knew, most of Rhayne's companions and mentors were dropping like flies.

Rhayne thought about the bigger picture though. There were so many deaths in one planet. Just one planet! Was this happening in other planets across the galaxy? It was a horrifying thought.

This steeled Rhayne's decision to enlist in the Republic ranks, where he would be actively deployed to wage battle against the Imperials. He had an ulterior motive as well. To raise awareness to the Republic so that Aldeeran could be peaceful once again. He hoped to gain many skills as well from the best Military force. Using whatever Credits he had left from his income as a Royal Guard, plus helpful donations from sponsors who believed he could make it to the most elite force in the galaxy, he was flown to Coruscant, where he enlisted in the army.

The Basic Military Course was a walk in the park for Rhayne. Held in an unidentified training planet a few parsecs away from Coruscant, he passed all the tests with flying colours. He enjoyed how he could fly from planet to planet, something he didn't do before and something he found fascinating. From the moment the course started, he already established himself as a prominent leader and fighter. He already knew how to handle a weapon and how to shoot with deadly precision. He knew how to survive in the wild and how to hunt and kill his food. Most importantly, he could carry any armour on him with relative ease. For most of the others who were city boys trying to boost their ego by being soldiers, they were not used to the outdoors, they were not used with weaponry and they were definitely not used to carrying something more than their bodyweight. A combat gear included a helmet, a full body armour, a fieldpack with multiple equipment in it, six magazines of rounds, two fragmentation grenades, a blaster pistol and of course their 'wife', the blaster rifle. Totalling everything up, the weight was easily over 40 kg. Constant marches in full battle armour was common, an activity which many people would drop out from due to pure exhaustion. Not Rhayne. Give him any distance, any terrain and he could walk it. He was used to trekking up some of the harshest mountains in Aldeeran. The training center was no different.

Everything was provided by the Republic Military. Rhayne would have rather used his own personal rifle but the Army was particular about standardizing everything, ensuring everyone trained under the same conditions. The weapon was not just a soldier's life, it was his wife. He had to take care of it, clean it, nurture it, and only when he does that, can he reap the rewards by shooting it. From time to time, instructors would try and steal the soldiers' rifles, to see how alert they were and whether they took care of it well enough. Failure to do so resulted in severe punishment.

Punishments were easy for Rhayne. His fitness level was off the charts. By the end of the 4 month Basic Course, Rhayne emerged as the Cohort's best recruit and also attained the best physical fitness award.

He was still only a recruit though, he needed to attain a rank before he could even attempt the Havoc Squad selection phase. With his outstanding merits, Rhayne was invited to go through the Sergeant Commander School, where the cadets would learn what it means to be a commander and how to be a Sergeant of the Republic Forces.

Mentally tougher than the Basic Course, with intelligence being the main forte of the school, Rhayne at times struggled with learning new things. He was a quick learner though and easily overcame the problem. The physical aspect was tougher, but still not much of a challenge to Rhayne. The instructors were much more stringent about things and would always find an excuse to scream at the cadets. That proved to be challenging for Rhayne. He was never shouted at before. Not in his entire life. To be shouted at by someone who was smaller – and probably weaker – than him was humiliating. Yet, he had the rank, so he had to swallow his pride and obey the rank. Even though he didn't agree with them, he would always respect the rank. In the Military, hierarchy was everything. He learnt more extensive stuff that wasn't just about military tactics. He learnt how to pilot and control a spaceship, which was a personal highlight for him. He learnt how to operate and maintain different vehicles but nothing beat the spaceship for him. It was a completely new thing for him, and he reveled in learning on how to use it. It was just the basics, but he loved every moment of it. He also learnt key infiltration skills such as going airborne, parachuting down from a shuttle ship and also rappelling, sliding down from a rope from a shuttle, all the way down to the insertion zone.

At the end of the Sergeant Commander School, he graduated with top honours. best cadet of the cohort, best fitness of the cohort, fastest timings in the starship obstacle course, fastest timing in rappelling and the list went on. Every category with a result would be Rhayne at the top.

This never happened before in the entire Republic Military's history. Never before. Everyone was interested. The holonet was raving about him, many news reporter wanted to interview him, the Supreme Chancellor came down to congratulate him and present him with the 'Golden Rifle', a symbol of excellence for what he had managed to accomplish. The highlight though was undoubtedly when Lieutenant Colonel Harron Tavus, the commander of Havoc Squad, came down to the graduating ceremony to personally congratulate Rhayne and offer an invitation to him to join the prestigious Havoc Squad selection course.

"You are an outstanding soldier. We need outstanding soldiers," Harron said. He had a voice that was mesmerizingly forceful, a voice which you could listen to for hours on end. That was the voice of a true leader. "Yet, we can't just give you a spot just yet, it wouldn't be fair to the rest of us. You may have gained top honours in everything, yet you still have to prove our worth to us. We at Havoc Squad are picky on who gets in. Yet you deserve a shot. Congratulations, Sergeant, you are invited to attend our selection phase."

**Chapter 2 - Acclimatizing to Hell**

To get into Havoc Squad, one must survive The Havoc Squad Selection Phase. A three week grueling course, active Havoc Squad personnel used this course to see if a soldier has the makings of a future Havoc Squad soldier. Designed to be ruthlessly torturous and near-impossible, they wanted to see who can defy the odds. Only 20% of the cohort would survive the Selection Phase. And that was just the start of hell. Once a soldier makes it through the Selection Phase of three weeks, it meant he or she was qualified to go through the _actual _Havoc Squad trials. In the selection phase, basic Havoc Squad tactics would be taught, but in the actual trials, that was where the real strategies were taught.

After the selection phase, there are four phases that the Soldier has to go through.

Phase 2 – Language Course. In order to be elite, a second language had to be learnt. Be it Huttese or Tionese, a Havoc Squad Trooper had to be proficient in communicating with other species. Failure to pass the final language examination would result in the Trooper to be kicked out of course.

Phase 3 – Forward Assault. This phase specializes in advance tactics and strategies specific to Havoc Squad such as raids, ambushes, patrols, recons and other strikes against enemy forces. The cadets would be trained in all the strategies and expected to conduct the operations in Section Level.

Phase 4 – Search and Destroy. An intense navigation exercise across a whole planet where the cadets would have to find multiple checkpoints – which are targets – and simulate destroying them. There are individual and Section Level for this phase. Individual where the cadet has to find his specific targets. Section Level where the Section has to find their target and destroy everything.

Phase 5 – Advance Recon. Intense reconnaissance and spying tactics that Havoc Squad use to gather information. Manipulation, character creation and Psychology are taught to the cadets. Also, multiple survival techniques are taught such as drown proofing and a Prisoner of War simulation.

Graduation – Not a phase but infamously well known to be the worst nightmare to the cadets. Designed specifically to house each cadets individual weakness, through teamwork they have to overcome it and only then will the cadets be inducted into Special Forces

At any given point of time in any of the five phases, a Trooper could be kicked out of course, be it for poor performance or an infraction to Military law. This was what the basic guidebook of Havoc Squad said that Rhayne read. Each aspiring cadets would get a handbook of what to expect in Havoc Squad. Strictly confidential of course.

In a planet in the Outer Rims, Rhayne went to the registration counter to sign in. He took a look at the other candidates there. Most were like him. Tough, grizzled and seasoned combat veterans. While Rhayne did have combat experience, he did not participate in live Republic Operations like the other soldiers here. He was truly a cadet for all his Military life. There were some famous Special Forces troopers in the vicinity as well. While the Republic Special Forces selection phase is also difficult, it did not compare to Havoc Squad's. Many Special Forces troopers would try and join Havoc Squad as it was a more illustrious career. Some others stood out that did not look like Special Forces material. Some had the pretty-boy image, the ones who were born with a silver spoon. These were noblemen and rich city boys who were only invited to the Selection Phase due to their father's connections. Corruption did not run deep in Havoc Squad, yet politics stretch out to even the cleanest organizations. There were also other soldiers from different vocations. There were the airborne division, the engineer division, snipers, recces, every vocation was here.

Rhayne realized what a humongous place the galaxy was. He may have been the best of his cohort, yet the galaxy has much more people than he would actually realize. There were even a few female as well. Yet, no matter how big the galaxy was, Havoc Squad was only looking for the galaxy's best, and in the end, 332 people were invited. This, unfortunately, included the city boys.

If history repeats itself, the passing rate would be less than 30. From 332 to 30. That was the intense nature of Havoc Squad.

Every equipment would be provided by Havoc Squad. The Troopers had a choice if they wanted to bring their own personal items. Rhayne did just that. It was better anyway. Others would want to use new equipment, but there would be no point. Firstly, they wouldn't be acclimatized to it, secondly, if you're not used to your weathered armour, it could cause chaffings, bruises and abrasions. Be something you're comfortable in, that was what Rhayne thought. And besides, he heard that the Havoc Squad technicians could make his personal equipment even better. He felt giddy at the thought.

As Rhayne registered, the attendant pointed at his epaulet.  
"Sergeant, remove your rank," he said.  
"Excuse me?" Rhayne asked.  
"You have to remove your rank if you want to join, Sergeant," he explained. "For the duration of the entire course, you will be a cadet, not a Sergeant."  
Rhayne looked around. It seemed this was the case for everyone. Even Majors had to relinquish their ranks temporarily. This would prevent in-fighting. The instructors could be a lower rank than the cadets. Yet, they had to assume the role of authority and dominance. Hence, all the cadets – regardless of how high their official ranks are – would be stripped and only have a cadet rank.  
"Very well," Rhayne said and took off his epaulet.

After registering, he was led to a place called the 'Hallowed Halls'. a place where the Troopers would be knighted and christened into the ranks of Havoc Squad. Where their names would be enshrined on a plaque among the vast walls. Only a few of them would enter the ranks of the elite. It can be all of them, it can be none of them, it also can be a few.

As everyone assembled, they were first introduced to the 'Havoc Squad's Creed', the motto that embodied the unit. It was flashed up on the screen once, they took the oath as cadets and the screen faded to black. They were told to then recite the creed individually in an unseen room so that the others couldn't cheat by copying. They wanted to see how motivated and serious they were. Rhayne was very dedicated and beyond motivated. He unfortunately just had a faltering memory. When it came to his turn, he thought he recited it perfectly but messed up one line. He was asked to go out the second door where all the people there were those who failed to recall it properly. They waited there until everyone finished. 148 people could not remember the creed.

"So you motherfuckers cannot remember the creed?!" a staff sergeant asked, coming out of the door, wearing the coveted Havoc Squad epaulet on his shoulderpads with pride.  
"No staff," they echoed.  
"You think getting this epaulet," he said pointing at it, "is easy?!"  
"No staff."  
"To wear this epaulet you go through hell and back. And you can't even say the easiest thing of the course, how the hell do you want to join Havoc Squad?"  
They didn't say anything. The funny thing was that some of the members were officers and in no way can a Sergeant scold an officer. However rank doesn't matter as they are all trainees now.  
"I don't care if you were a Major, a Colonel, a Captain, or whatever rank you held last time. Right now, you are a cadet. You are my little bitch. I own you. And I'll do what I will with you. I will make you fucking remember. 3 minutes, FBA on. Fuck off."  
They quickly rushed to put on their Full Body Armour, which was their helmet, field pack, rifle and formed up infront of him. They were a second late.  
"You wankers are not punctual! Push up position!" he yelled.  
They all got into the push up position and gave him 60. In their full battle gear. Wearing the battle gear takes time as every single piece of equipment requires time to put on properly. Everyone was trained to be mobilized quickly, yet 3 minutes was near impossible.  
"When I say 3 minutes, I fucking mean 3 minutes! That's 150 fucking seconds, not 151 seconds! In Havoc Squad, it is fucking important to be on time! Time is a huge factor to us, time is the most important thing and you can never be fucking late! If you are late 3 times in any event, I will kick your ass out of the course. Do you understand?!"  
"Yes Staff!" they echoed in the push up position.  
"Recover," he commanded, and they quickly rose erect. "All of you, run in Platoon level around the camp, and say the Creed. You will stop when I am satisfied. Run."  
While running, all of them formed up perfectly in sync to Platoon level. When training with the best, things do flow naturally. In perfect step, they started saying the Creed. Or what they could remember of it. They kept trying to correct themselves and found out what's the correct version. While doing that they learnt where everything was in the camp area. The other thing learnt was that the camp was humongous. One round around the camp covered 3 km.

After not saying the Creed in perfect sync, not saying it loud enough, not running together well enough, not staying in formation consistently enough, they were onto their 9th lap. The formation was slowly breaking as fatigue hit some of them. Not all of them had the same fitness level, true most of them were freakishly fit but some paces were too fast for others. When they finally reached the halls, they put in their best cry, their most perfect run and didn't dare break out of formation. And finally they were done.

"About time," the Staff growled. "Get inside."  
As they proceeded to go inside, they saw that the remaining cadets were sitting up straight, erect, not daring to move.  
"Because of your idiotic mistakes, we couldn't start," the Staff growled. "Since in Havoc Squad, it's all for one and one for all, we couldn't start without you. Since you suffer, they had to suffer as well, thus they were forbidden to move."  
Not being able to move was probably one of the worst punishments you could give. As an active Trooper, they were all used to having high energy and moving around a lot. Being denied movement was horrible for them.  
"Everyone at ease," a familiar voice said. It was Lieutenant Colonel Harron Tavus. The leader of Havoc Squad. He made his way up to the stage and introduced himself and what he expects of the Troopers during the Selection Phase.  
"This will not be an easy course," he said. "We will weed out the weak, because only the strongest can be inducted to be a member of Havoc Squad."

He went on to talk about the history, future lessons and the instructors.  
"There will be 19 instructors at all times," he said. "They will be your mentor, your disciplinarian, your leader and your saving grace. You will either be broken by them or be found worthy by them."  
All of them had varying ranks. Most of them were Sergeants. Two of them were Captains. One was a Major. He would be the overseer of the entire Phase 1.

"Instructions would be given by Major Klay on a daily basis. You will not know anything in advance. Havoc Squad is train to adapt to the unexpected. A whiteboard will be near your bunks and instructions will be written on it. Constantly check on it if you want to survive. Anything and everything can happen."

The cadets were ushered to their bunks, a three story building. The instructors told them that they could wash up and sleep as there was a hectic day tomorrow, but no one let their guard down. Anything could happen. Yet, when in a company of the Republic's finest, a strong friendship was sure to blossom. Three Companies split up the whole cohort, Alpha, Bravo and Charlie, all had their own separate building that was relatively close to each other. Rhaye was assigned to Alpha, Platoon 3. His bunk was shared with 13 other people, all from the same Platoon. While it was discouraged to know each other at an intimate level because they knew that some of them were going to drop out, they couldn't help themselves. The Republic's finest were gathered here and stories on life and their military-related experiences were shared among others.

They were all from different backgrounds and different species, there was a Twi'lek and a Zabrak there and they were from planets Rhayne had not even heard of. Rhayne also found out that he was the lowest rank there. Most of them were Lieutenants or Captains and most but three were combat hardened. The whole bunk got along very well. Well all except one.

The only female in the bunk, she was Captain Ada Klaus. One of six women invited for the selection phase. Normal military protocol would have women living in a different bunk from the men, but in Havoc Squad, integrity is everything. The rule was clearly laid out that sexual relations within the bunks were not allowed and they expected the cadets to follow the rules. If not, they're out.

A Twi'lek from Ryloth, she was a former slave to the Hutts. Her colourful past has made her a bitter cynic but a determined warrior. It was how she got the Captain rank, but her personality was difficult to like. In her head, she had something to prove. Whether it was issues she faced in the past or just a need to show everyone that she wasn't a slave due to her deep-seated insecurities, she was constantly butting heads with the other members of the bunk. She was not increasing her success rate of passing if she were to constantly annoy others. Social standing plays a key part in the selection phase as there will be constant Peer Evaluation, where other members would rate each other in terms of likability, leadership, personality and skill.

A slim body with atheletic features, she was a radiant blue with her tentacles on her head sporting a light tribal pattern. Yet there was something about those eyes that gave the men here the chills. She had an ice cold glare that breathed hostility. Despite her exterior look, inside she was as cold-hearted as they came.

Everyone had their insecurities though. Rhayne as well was no different. As an Ex- Royal Guard, he felt that he had something to prove to match up to all the other wonderful stories of the others he heard. So he was telling stories about partying, getting women and being blackout drunk. The other men were laughing with him. Ada wasn't too keen.

"You know, if you spent more time remembering your Creed instead of your bullshit stories, you wouldn't waste our time and get us into crap," she spat.

That was a cheap shot. The room fell silent and Rhayne looked her glare straight in the eye.

"And if you stop being a prude and try to enjoy life," he retorted. "People would like you more."

"I'm just saying, is it so difficult to remember a few words of the Creed? You're striving to be a member of Havoc Squad, it is embarrassing that you wouldn't know it. Has all that sex rotted your brain?"

"As opposed to having no sex which makes you unlikable."

"How would you know?"

"May the Force bless the man who has to sleep with a person like you," Rhayne sneered. He was generally a very nice person, yet he didn't like being challenged. Or insulted.

"I can say the same about the women who sleep with you," she rolled her eyes.

"Please, they know class when they see one," he said, flashing her a beautiful smile. That had absolutely no effect on her.

"No, they are drunk idiots who can't tell their arse from their head and fall into a trap of a sweet talker."  
"That's the first compliment you gave me," Rhayne laughed.

"Not a compliment," she glared.

"But ma'am," he said sarcastically. "As a leader how else would you motivate your men?"

"Join my ranks I'll show you how. You wouldn't like it though."  
"I'm sure anything with you wouldn't be nice."  
"You don't know half of it, Sergeant, you're too low," she spitefully said.  
"Woah, playing rank now are we? We are all just trainees here."  
"Being an aspiring Havoc Squad you should respect the hierarchy and your elders."  
"Sorry granny, but my grandma always didn't want to be reminded of her age so I thought I would be a bit polite to you."  
"Okay, why don't we call it a night!" One of the Captains interrupted, getting in between them hoping to avoid a potential conflict. "It's a course where anything can happen where sleep is precious so… let's rest up!" And so the Captain ended their little dispute, to the displeasure of the other lads hoping for a scene. But he was right, sleep was precious and they needed to get as much sleep as they can.

Which was very short-lived. At 2 a.m. the instructors barged through the door and demanded a 'Stand-By-Bed'. This meant an area inspection to see if the bed, personal cabinet and the floor surrounding the area was clean and up to standard.

The cadetss at first groggily woke up but immediately sprung up to touch up their area. There wouldn't be any point. The place wasn't clean and it was obvious the instructors were trying to find fault. Rhayne didn't think to organize his cabinet, he just dumped everything inside.

"You all think this is a holiday inn?!" The instructor asked. He was dressed in vest-slack attire, that means a normal shirt but armour leggings. The cadets noticed it and they were dreading what was going to happen.

"No Sergeant!" they echoed, noticing his Sergeant rank on his sleeve.

"You all think this your damn house? Look how messy it is!" he shouted, walking over to one Lieutenant's locker. Everyone was standing by the bed in the attention position, yet when the Sergeant came towards his cabinet he stood as straight as he possibly could, fully erect.

As the instructor opened the cabinet, his face was filled with disgust and he slowly sauntered over directly infront of the Lieutenant.

"Cadet," the instructor murmured gravely.

"Yes, Sergeant," he replied.

"CADET!" He shouted. "Are you too tired? You can't speak loud enough?!"

"NO, SERGEANT!" The Lieutenant replied.

"SO REPLY LOUDER!" The Sergeant spat.

"YES, SERGEANT!"

"You think you're here on a holiday?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, Sergeant."  
"You think just because you're a lieutenant you're a big fuck around here?"

"No, Sergeant." It had probably been a long time since this Lieutenant got scolded this badly by a Sergeant. Probably when he was still a recruit or an officer cadet. A Sergeant wasn't even allowed to scold an Officer, yet right now the Sergeant was making it forcefully known that his rank can't save him now.

"So why the fuck is your cabinet so fucking dirty?"

The Lieutenant was at a lost of words. The Sergeant grabbed him by the collar and yanked him so that he was looking inside his cabinet.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS?!" he shouted.

The shirts were gathering in one messy pile with his personal armour right on top of it. The gun was resting on it on an awkward angle and all his toiletries was spread out all over the cabinet. Some of his undergarments were even on his toothbrush.

"What, in the blue hell is this?!"

"Sir, they are-"

"I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE!" he said, taking a comb and throwing it at him. "You dirty unkempt pig!"

The instructor then threw out everything in the cabinet. The shirts, the toiletries, the armour, all this while shouting "Fucking bullshit!" He took the fieldpack out, unzipped it, threw the contents out and threw it across the room. While this was happening, the Lieutenant was standing stoically passive despite the whirlwind of chaos happening around him. And the occasional shirt that would be thrown at him.

"Do you think this is acceptable?!" the instructor asked when he was finally done ravishing the locker.

"No, Sergeant."

"Damn right!" He walked over to the person next to him. "You, why didn't you ensure the cleanliness of your bunkmate?"

The bunkmate, who was a Staff Sergeant, was in complete shock. How was he going to answer that question?

"I asked you a question!"

"Sorry, Sergeant," the Staff apologized. Usually, it would be the Staff Sergeants making the Sergeants life a complete hell. How the roles have changed.

"You selfish fuck. You're as fucked up as he is," he growled. He slowly walked over to the center of the room, each step emitting some sort of discomforting presence. Something was going to happen. "Listen up, Cadets. Because of that motherfucker," he pointed at the Lieutenant. "I am going to fuck you all tonight. I don't care who it is, I don't care how many people it takes, but I want that locker at the parade square in 5 minutes!"

Their bunks were on the third floor! The Lieutenant quickly brushed himself off and attempted to pick up the cabinet before three other guys came to help. Teamwork was acceptable. It is during such intense, stressful situations where you realize you can't do things alone and you need a helping hand. That was the reason for the punishments. To foster friendship.

Three more instructors came in to speed up the inspection process and people were doing push ups and getting screamed at. Rhayne barely passed his inspection test, he still had to give the instructor a measly 50 push ups.

Ada wasn't so lucky though.

"What the fuck is this?!" the Lieutenant instructor shouted, throwing her bra and panties at her. "Why the hell is it hung like that?! What are you trying to attract? Are you a prostitute?!"

"No, Sir!" she replied.

"Then why the hell is it hung like that?!" He shouted, kicking the bed. "Bring this fucking bed to the parade square, NOW!"

She quickly moved over to grab one leg of the bed waiting for help.

No one wanted to help her though.

It took a cold glare from her before three others gave in and decided to help her. Rhayne wasn't one of them. He was reveling on how she got punished. Karma's a bitch.

After the instructors left, the remaining cadets in the bunk could hear the others being punished in the parade square and the cadets down there were told to bring the equipment back up. Another three flights of stairs for them. Since the remaining cadets didn't have anything else to do, they decided to go down and help the unfortunate ones, to speed up the process. When they were done moving the equipment back up to the room, they were told to get into their PT (Physical Training) kit. In two minutes. Since Rhayne's company was already getting the hell treatment, they were all alert and ready and made it to the parade square in under a minute. The other two companies must have been woken up from the punishing session Alpha went too and were awake as well. However, they weren't as fast as they were and arrived just slightly later than two minutes.

"Everyone drop it down and give me 120!" the instructors yelled.

Once that was done, they had to run out of camp, and stopped at a football sized mud field. Laid out on it were several logs.

Rhayne groaned internally. Log PT at 3 am? He wanted to sleep!

There were 8 cadets to each log and they had to follow the Major Klay's - the conductor of the PT - count.

Three counts of four each time. From their left shoulder they would have to raise it up, that's 1. From there they lower it on their right shoulder. That's 2. From there they raise it up again over their heads. That's 3. From there it's back to the left shoulder. And it starts over.

The log weighed over 160 kg. That was 20kg each cadet had to handle. The instructor started barking out the counts and the cadets began the exercise. It was no problem for Rhayne, but he had to slow down. This was a team effort. If he went too fast, the others won't be able to follow his pace, it would mess up the synchronization and it would make the PT a lot harder. Log PT had to be done in perfect synchronization. Rhayne gave out the timing for his group. Log PT in itself is pretty tiring, what made it worse was that instructors would constantly walk around like vultures circling around their prey. When they sense weakness, they would go right up to the cadet's face and shout at them.

"You feeling tired, cadet?"

"No, Sergeant."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sergeant!" The cadet would reply, out of breath, sweating profusely while trying to keep in count with the others.

"You look weak and unfit."

"I'm not, Sergeant."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sergeant!"

"Are you giving me attitude?"

"No, Sergeant!"

And this disrupted the count, made him lose focus causing him to try and move the log a different way from his team, causing an upset in kinetic balance and the log would tumble to the floor.

"HURRY UP! NO REST YOU MAGGOTS!" An instructor would yell.

The cadets would then struggle to lift it up as it was incredibly heavy.

By the time they hit 54 counts of 3, people were beginning to feel sick. It was now 3:00 am and weakness and fatigue was already hitting some of them. One cadet couldn't take it, he had to run out the field to vomit. It was stated beforehand that the only thing that can happen in the field was sweat, blood and tears. Anything else had to be outside. Failure to comply would result in severe punishment for everyone.

Unfortunately for that cadet's team members, with one guy gone, the seven people had to tank an extra weight. The timing got slower, and the instructors pounced on it.

"WHY ARE YOU SO SLOW?! KEEP UP WITH THE TIMING!"

Rhayne's team had one member falling out to vomit. The added stress caused another person to run out as well. Down to six people, the timing got noticeably slower. Yet Rhayne made up for it. He decided to take most of the weight and move count for count with the instructor. He wasn't tired at all. He could have done this all night while others were dropping out to vomit.

"ALL OF YOU CAN'T KEEP IN TIMING, DROP THE LOGS!"

Everyone dropped the logs.

"GET IN THE MUD AND GIVE ME FLUTTER KICKS!" The instructor yelled.

Everyone got down and started giving flutter kicks. The flutter kicks went all the way to 200 and people were standing up to quickly run out to vomit. One guy vomited inside.

"YOU SICK, PERVERTED FREAK!" an instructor went to yell at him. "CLEAN IT UP! CLEAN IT UP WITH YOUR HANDS!"

The poor cadet had to use his hands to pick up the bits of chunks of vomit and stuff it in his pockets.

"LEAVE NO TRACE BEHIND, EVERY LAST DROP!" The instructor yelled.

"One fucker vomited didn't he?!" Major Klay shouted. "Everyone, ROLL RIGHT!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and immediately rolled right. They kept rolling to the right because they weren't given the command to stop yet. Unfortunate cadets had to roll right over the patch of vomit.

"ROLL LEFT!"

Everyone rolled left. The same poor cadet had to roll twice over the vomit now. As he was rolling over it, the scent hit him and he had to run out to vomit.

People were dropping out like flies now.

"Do you need to see a medic?" the instructor would ask robotically, without a trace of emotion.

If the answer was no, they were told to carry on. If they replied yes, they risked being kicked out.

The first guy to VW (Voluntarily Withdraw) was the cadet who vomited three times already. Those who couldn't take the training could choose to withdraw. It was a very simple process. They would go to an instructor and say they couldn't take it. The instructor could not give a single fuck. He would just ask him to sit in one corner. In that corner, would be one attendant registering who fell out.

Only 1 and a half hour after the room inspection happened and there were already 7 people who dropped out.

After rolling around, the cadets had to assemble back at their logs. They were deemed too slow and had to give 50 push ups before they could go back to their logs. The Log PT begins again. It has now been 2 hours since the room inspection began.

4 am and the Log PT continued. More cadets were dropping out due to physical exhaustion or an injury to the shoulder.

Rhayne was finally experiencing a discomfort in his left shoulder, something which worried him greatly as he never get's tired. He tried to dispel it from his mind and pushed on, following the count. Two guys from his team VW'd, so the team had to carry their load.

At 4:30, the dropout rate tripled to 21. The cadets were then asked to run back to their bunks to put on their Standard Battle Armour. Just the helmet and armour but without the rifle and field pack. Everyone made a mad rush to their bunks.

It looked like a stampede of pigs. They were all muddy, they were all smelly, and they were all bloodshot.

When they all assembled in the parade square in their SBA, they all had to keep up with a jeep as it lead them away from their camp.

The armour alone easily weighed 15 kg, and they had to run in it to keep up with the jeep. Usually marches would be conducted in the armour and that would be easy, yet this was a run. Furthermore, they had to run in formation. Rhayne had unparalleled stamina, yet this was new to him, running with his SBA at a constant fast speed, he started to feel tired after the 3rd kilometer.

"For all that talk you aren't that fast are you?" Ada sneered as she ran next to Rhayne.

Rhayne was not in the mood. He was sleepy, tired and this made him angry. Yet he kept his cool.

"Why on Earth would I want to sprint? Good guys let women come first. It ain't a sprint, it's a marathon."

The cadets seemed to be used to running in SBA. He never had the chance to do so. He would always be the fastest in route marches because that was just simple fast paced walking. This was running! He actually had to put in effort to keep up.

"Whatever you say, but grandma here isn't even sweating," she boasted.

Rhayne made a silent growl under his helmet and wanted to retort back but was interrupted by an instructor who ran next to them.

"DO YOU GUYS WANT TO TALK OR RUN?!"

"Run, Sergeant!" Ada and Rhayne replied.

"I'll give you something to talk about!" he said as he jumped at a puddle next to them, splashing mud over them and to the other cadets around them. "BLAME THEM, NOT ME, BECAUSE THEY COULDN'T KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT!"

Rhayne silently apologized to the others as they were mumbling under their breaths.

"You should learn to keep quiet," Ada said.

"Fuck you," Rhayne cursed. "I-"  
"STILL WANT TO TALK?! EVERYONE, PUSH UP POSITION!"

From running, everyone then went into the push up position while silently groaning. Stopping immediately while running was bad, and it made some people sick. There were eleven people who VW'd during the run because they couldn't keep up running in SBA. Two more dropped out when they had to switch to the push up position because it made them feel sick.

Before they proceeded to give the command to do push ups, one of them pointed at Rhayne.

"Not you. You stand."

Rhayne sheepishly stood up and realized the entire attention was on him.

"This motherfucker," the instructor pointed at Rhayne, shining the spotlight onto him. "Is the reason why you are in the push up position!"

Rhayne had to witness them doing 120 push ups. This made him feel extremely guilty, which was the point. By making him watch others do the punishment which he was responsible for, it made him feel shitty.

"Now you get down," the instructor ordered and Rhayne quickly got into the push up position when everyone finished. He intentionally stepped on Ada's hand and he smiled as she silently swore.

"Now all of you will move in this position!"

And in that push up position, the cadets crawled another 800 meters.

The cadets crawled to an uninhabited beach. A beach that would possibly look beautiful during the sunset, yet, it wasn't particularly inviting to the cadets right now. They knew the Beach PT was coming up. An endless amount of exercises on the beach that were much more difficult because it was being done on the sand. And since it was done on the beach, the waves would usually splash over the cadets, making the sand stick onto them, making their weight heavier and the exercise much more difficult to complete.

True enough, the Beach PT began.

500 Push Ups, 900 Sit ups, endless amounts of jumping jacks, ranger hops, leopard crawl, and flutter kicks. All this with an instructor going directly above them and screaming at them. At this point, Rhayne admited it. He was tired. He has never felt this level of exhaustion before. All the previous things they did finally hit him. This was exhausting. More and more cadets were dropping out which was bad on the morale. It made everyone think, 'can I do it? Or should I fall out?' Rhayne was starting to think this. The worst enemy was not exhaustion. It was doubt.  
Rhayne thought no one was looking and decided to take a break. He just stayed in the push up position, not going down.  
"YOU FUCKER, YOU ARE BEGGING TO DO MORE RIGHT?!" he heard a voice yelling behind him. It was an instructor Major.  
"No sir!" he shouted.  
He walked infront of him crouched down, his face really close to his, grabbed his helmet and yanked it, making him look at him.  
"YOU BETTER EXCEL AND NOT GIVE ME FUCKED UP STANDARDS! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!"  
"SIR YES SIR!" Rhayne shouted, half delirious by this point. He needed water. No one had anything to drink.  
He pushed his head to the ground.  
"Raise your head up," he said as Rhayne complied with him. "Down."  
Three hundred and thirty eight.  
"Down."  
Three hundred and thirty nine.  
"Down!"  
Three hundred and fourty.  
"Down!"  
His face was getting rather close.  
"DOWN!"  
He was spitting now.  
"DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN ,DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN!"  
He suddenly sped up and Rhayne struggled to keep up with his rapid pace.  
"FASTER YOU WEAK MOTHERFUCKER!"  
"Sir yes, Sir!"  
"DON'T YES SIR ME IF YOU CANT DO IT!"  
"Yes sir!"  
"COMPLETE FASTER! DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN!"  
Rhayne was wondering when he was going to leave him alone.

When the Beach PT finally finished, they all had to do a coastal swim, swimming 200 meters to kiss the lifeboat and swim back. Swimming in the sea, especially against the current is not just difficult, it was a nightmare with the armour. They were swimming to keep themselves afloat, battling against their armour weight which threatened to drag them down. A few more cadets had no more strength to keep themselves afloat and the instructors on hand had to pull them out. There were those who couldn't swim as well. Some of the water got into the creaks of the armour and that weighed the cadets down even more.  
Mustering all their strength to fight against the current, reaching there, putting their lips on the boat and having some of the instructors on it shouting to 'kiss it properly', they had to swim back to shore. The instructors thought their performance was utter rubbish and made them do more push ups. They had to wait in the push up position until the last guy came back. With their hands shaking, their muscles weak and sweat mixed with sea water pouring down their face, Rhayne thought to himself that if this was only the first day, how the hell was he going to survive the duration of the course? Should he quit now? If this was the beginning and the duration would be like this, he would definitely break.

When the last guy came back they were all told to turn around and lie flat on their backs.  
"If any of you fall asleep, you will fucking get it!" the Major said.  
The amount of fucks Rhayne gave was literally zero. He was too tired, he was too worn out, and once he was in the position of lying flat on his back, a very comfortable position in the sand, he dozed off. In hindsight, that was a very smart move. The instructors left them after that and they were gone for 5 hours. Those who were smart, knew that this was a rest time and gobbled up the opportunity to sleep. Others who were frightened stayed wide awake. This was another test by the instructors.  
Come 8 am, Rhayne and those who rested were refreshed. Well more energetic at least than those who were fearful of the instructors' wrath. Ada was one of them, her face looking like she saw better days. One smirk from Rhayne and she mouthed a curse.

They spent that whole day learning battle orders and tactics. To learn under extreme exhaustion was probably the biggest challenge for Rhayne. He was intelligent and he could study, but he never ever studied under such duress before. He didn't have any sleep and he was extremly fatigued. To learn complicated things as well that required a pass, he thought this was where he would be kicked out. He fortunately passed (barely), those who failed were asked to leave the course. Mercifully, the day ended and the cadets could all crawl into their beds to sleep. They were still scared, so every half hour, they would assign one person to be awake and watch the whiteboard for any new orders. The instructors didn't touch them that night though.

The first day was meant to be the hardest, to break as much people as possible. The next few lessons would have secret knowledge that can't be shared to those who would drop out. This first day was an investment plan, to see who they could trust in the future. They needed to weed out the weak, and they have done it very effectively.

Total Strength at the start: 332

Number of drop outs at Day 1: 89

Current Strength: 243

The first day was definitely difficult but most of the cadets there were freakishly fit. It was possible, just extremely difficult. It definitely removed all the city boys and rich boys from contention. Just 20 more days to go.


End file.
